


Hug Me. Maybe. Marry Me. Be True.

by RabbitRunnah



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Older Zimbits, Valentine's Day, Young Jack Zimmermann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 19:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17752361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabbitRunnah/pseuds/RabbitRunnah
Summary: Four Valentine's Days, four conversations.





	Hug Me. Maybe. Marry Me. Be True.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by picking conversation hearts out of a bag at random.

**HUG ME**

 

“Jack and Maya sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G ...”

Jack Zimmermann’s face burned with shame. Even hidden in the tunnel, he could hear his classmates’ song. So what if his best friend was a girl? Maya was kind, and funny, and she had a nice dog that her mom brought to school every day when she came to walk Maya home. Jack wanted a dog, but Maman and Papa said they traveled too much to have a pet. Maya was also really good at hockey — she was one of the best players on his team. But today, during the Valentine’s Day party at school, Maya had given Jack a box of candy hearts. She hadn’t given anybody else candy hearts, and now everybody was calling them boyfriend and girlfriend.

“You want to marry Maya,” Toby had taunted. (Toby played goalie on a different hockey team. Toby was not very good at hockey.)

“Do you kiss after hockey practice?” Adam asked.

Elise began the chant, and soon a few other kids joined in: “Jack and Maya ...”

Jack was still upset when Maman asked him how his day was.

“Fine,” he muttered. He did not look at Maman, afraid she would take one look at his face and see that everything was _not_ fine.

“You don’t sound fine,” Maman said, sitting down next to Jack on the floor where he was sorting the cards and candy he’d received in his Valentine mailbox at school. He had 23 cards, three pencils, two chocolate coins, six lollipops, and one box of candy hearts. He tossed the box to the side.

“What’s this?” Maman asked, picking it up. Jack hadn’t opened it, but it was a little smashed.

“Nothing,” Jack said quickly. “You can have it.”

“I remember these from when I was your age. Did Maya give these to you?” Maman asked, pointing out Maya’s carefully printed name on the back of the box. “It was very kind of her to give you such a nice gift. I hope you thanked her.”

Jack had not, in fact, thanked Maya. He had actually tried to shove the box back into her mailbox, but it had gotten stuck, which was why it was in such bad shape now.

“Jack,” Maman pressed, “did you thank Maya?”

“Is it okay for boys to be friends with girls?” Jack asked instead. “I thought Maya was my friend, but she gave me _those_ —” he cast a withering look at the candy — “and now everybody says she’s my girlfriend. I don’t want to have a girlfriend. I don’t want to get married. I just want to play hockey with my friends.”

“Oh, Jack.” Maman began to rub small circles on his back. “You can be friends with whoever you want, boys or girls. It doesn’t mean you have to marry them. Maybe someday you _will_ be friends with somebody and you’ll like them so much you want to get married, like me and Papa, but that won’t happen for a long time.”

“I want to play hockey,” Jack insisted.

“Well,” Maman said through a laugh, “you can do that too.” She shook a few of the candy hearts out into her palm. “I used to hand these out to all of my friends when I was your age,” she said. “Let’s see what we have here ... ‘Call Me,’ ‘Sugar,’ ‘Be True.’”

“What are those?” Jack asked.

“Just silly little sayings. Here’s another one: ‘Kiss Me.’ I’ll save that one for Papa.

Jack wrinkled his nose and took a heart out of the box. “‘Spicy,” he read, brows knit together in confusion.

“That’s another silly one,” Maman said. She noticed the look on her son’s face, still so serious and a little sad. “I was going to order pizza for dinner, but would you like to go to the diner that has the chicken tenders you like instead?”

Jack nodded. “Can we get milkshakes for dessert?” he asked.

“I think that can be arranged. What’s this one say?” she asked, turning over the heart in Jack’s palm.

“‘Hug me,’” Jack read out loud.

Maman pulled Jack close and wrapped her arms around him. Somehow, it was exactly what he needed.

 

**MAYBE**

Jack startled when he heard a knock on his door. It was Valentine’s Day, and though the team had just pulled off a great win, he knew most of the guys had gone out immediately afterward.

“Just a sec,” he called, sliding out of bed and padding to the door. Through the crack in the opening, he saw Bittle standing outside. “Hey, Bittle,” he said, opening it further.

“Oh, hey, Jack,” Bittle said, as if he was surprised to see Jack standing there. “I just, uh, wanted to apologize again, about everything that happened earlier with Shitty and the sign. And, uh —” he handed a small package to Jack — “you got some mail. It was on the kitchen counter.”

Jack took the package and smiled when he spotted the return address and Canadian postage. “It’s from my parents,” he said, sliding his thumb under the tape and prying it open. As he expected, the package contained a small box of candy conversation hearts. “Want one?” he asked, shaking a few into his own hand. He popped one — it said “Luv U” — into his mouth.

“Jack Zimmermann,” Bittle said, clearly delighted by _something_ , “did your parents send you Valentine’s candy?”

“It’s tradition.” Maman had given him a box every year since second grade, when he’d come home crying about getting a similar box from a girl.

“I haven’t had those in years.”

“I kind of like them.” Jack chose a white one and handed it to Bittle. The white ones were the best.

“‘Tweet me.’ Very funny.”

“It’s perfect.” Jack couldn’t help the smile he felt splitting his face. More and more, lately, he found himself smiling in Bittle’s company. Though for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why Bittle was here with him tonight, instead of out with everyone else. “Why aren’t you out with the guys?”

Bittle made a face. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Rans and Holster took March and April out for half-price beers and karaoke. Shitty and Lardo went to an anti-Valentine’s Day Valentine’s Day party with some of her friends. And Chowder and Cait, well, it’s their first Valentine’s Day together. I didn’t want to be the third wheel. Plus, I have some reading to finish up.”

“Do you want to be out tonight?” Jack wasn’t sure why he was asking, or why he cared. Because Bittle was his friend, he supposed. “If we hadn’t had a game tonight, is there anybody — ?”

“There’s nobody,” Bittle said quickly.

Something about that didn’t sit well with Jack. Bittle was cute, and funny, and would probably be a good boyfriend. It didn’t seem right that he didn’t have anybody to celebrate with. Then again, maybe Bittle didn’t want to date. Jack could relate. Since officially breaking things off with Camilla, he hadn’t been that interested in dating either. He had too many other important things to think about.

“Well,” Jack said, choosing another heart and dropping it into Bittle’s open palm. “Maybe next year.”

Bittle looked at the message in his hand and smiled a little wistfully. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe.”

 

**MARRY ME**

Bitty was in the kitchen — no big surprise there — when Jack got home from his game. “What are these?” he asked, picking up a cupcake. A little candy heart sat atop a perfect swirl of pink frosting.

“They’re for my kids at practice tomorrow,” Bitty said. He placed a green heart on top of another cupcake. “If I have any leftovers I’ll save ‘em for you, but no sneaking any tonight.”

Jack chuckled “Is your strategy to get them all sugared up before practice? I guess it worked for you with those pumpkin lattes.”

Bitty bumped Jack with his hip and went back to his candy placement. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Zimmermann, that these are for _after_ practice.”

“Lucky kids.” They were lucky to have Bitty as a coach, and not just because his cupcakes were, in Jack’s opinion, the best he’d ever tasted. Bitty hadn’t been sure, at first, when the manager of the peewee hockey league affiliated with the Falcs had approached him about coaching a team, but it turned out he was a natural. Not that Jack had ever doubted him. Jack had seen him lead SMH to a Frozen Four championship as captain, and he was Thirdy’s daughter’s favorite babysitter. As Jack had expected, Bitty had taken to coaching like a duck to water. His kids won some and they lost some, but he’d seen how much they’d grown in the short time Bitty had been working with them.

“And lucky me,” Jack added, leaning down to give Bitty a kiss on the cheek. “I get their leftovers.”

“ _If_ there are leftovers,” Bitty said, laughing. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

*

The next evening, when Jack let himself in after practice, he could hear the shower running. Which meant Bitty was home.  And — he glanced at the kitchen counter — there was one cupcake sitting on a red and pink paper plate. He picked it up and did a double take when he glimpsed the message on the pink heart sitting atop the cake.

“Marry me.”

It couldn’t be what it implied, right? It was just a coincidence, the last cupcake left after all of Bitty’s kids had been served. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that. It certainly wasn’t — probably wasn’t, anyway — intended to be taken at face value.

They’d talked about marriage, of course, but Jack had always, in the back of his mind, thought he’d be the one to do it. It was all planned; he had the ring and he was going to it when they went to Madison in July.

“Honey?” Jack wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing in the middle of their kitchen, staring at the cupcake, but it must have been longer than he thought because Bitty was standing in front of him, towel wrapped around his waist. “You’re home early,” he said, eyes darting to Jack’s hands. “You’re not supposed to ... I was gonna ...” Bitty, for once, was at a loss for words.

“Bits, is this —” Jack held the cupcake out for Bitty to inspect. “I mean …” He shrugged. He was at a loss for words, too.

“I had it all planned!” Bitty blurted out. “You were supposed to get home later, and I was gonna be dressed and have some music playing ...”

“I think you look pretty good right now,” Jack said, sidestepping the fact that Bitty had almost-but-not-quite just proposed.

“Oh, you.” Bitty took the cupcake from Jack —” I was going to get down on one knee,  like this —“ he dropped to one knee and looked up at Jack, cupcake held toward him.

Jack laughed. “You’re so far away,” he chirped.

“Jack Zimmermann, are you calling me short right as I’m about to propose?” Bitty asked as he stood, one hand at his waist to prevent the towel from slipping off. He still hadn’t actually proposed, but Jack’s chirp had accomplished what he wanted, which was to bring Bitty close enough to gather in his arms.

“Yes,” he murmured.

Bitty swatted at his chest. “I haven’t asked you anything yet!”

”If you ask me, I’ll say yes.”

“Marry me.”

“Yes.”

 

**BE TRUE**

“Oh, honey,” Bitty gasped as Emily twirled in the living room. Her skirt flared out around her and sparkled as the spun. Jack was surprised their daughter had chosen such a feminine dress to wear to the Valentine’s Day dance — he was surprised she wanted to go at all, actually — but the striped knee socks and red Chuck Taylors gave it her own personal touch. Bitty had sighed when she’d insisted on wearing the shoes, but he’d later confessed to Jack that it was just fine if she wanted to wait a few years before buying her first pair of high heels.

“You just aren’t ready for her to be taller than you,” Jack had chirped.

“I’m not ready for her to not be our little girl,” Bitty had countered. Jack understood. He wasn’t ready, either.

“You look beautiful,” Jack said as Emily came to a stop and her skirt settled around her. “Let me take a picture before you leave.”

“Papa,” Emily whined, “Henry is going to be here any minute.”

“He can wait,” Bitty said. “Or, better yet, he can come in and take a picture with you. This is your first big dance, you’re not leaving this house without pictures.”

Jack captured Emily’s eye roll on camera. He also managed to get one of her smiling, and one of her with Bitty, who, Jack could tell, was trying not to cry. Then he set the timer and joined them for one last picture.

“ _Now_ can I go?”

“Hold on just a minute,” Jack said, reaching into his pocket. Maman still sent him a box of candy hearts every year, and though Bitty (and now Emily) still claimed they were inedible, Jack found them oddly comforting. He pulled out the heart he’d saved for Emily.

Predictably, she rolled her eyes as Jack pressed it into her hand. As a little girl, she’d loved reading each one with Jack and laughing at some of the more old fashioned or puzzling words and phrases, but now she pretended to be above such things. “Be true?” she read.

“Just, ah, you’re going to your first real dance with a boy, and I wanted to remind you that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Jack said. This whole speech had sounded better in his head. “If you don’t want to dance, you don’t have to. And obviously, if you don’t want to kiss or —”

“Oh my god, Papa!” Emily yelled, pressing her hands to her ears. “I’m not going to have sex with him. I’m only fifteen.”

“I think what Papa is trying to remind you of,” Bitty interrupted, “is that you shouldn’t let anybody pressure you into doing things that make you uncomfortable. Tonight or ever.”

“Be true to yourself,” Jack finished.

Emily rolled her eyes again. Now that she was a teenager, she did that a lot. “I _know,_ you guys. You’ve _literally_ been telling me this since I was a baby. Can I go now?”

“We’ll walk you out,” Bitty said, putting an arm around her shoulder and guiding her out the door. Jack followed. They watched together as she ran to meet Henry, who got out of his mother’s van to meet her. The couple obligingly posed for one more photo, and Henry even shook their hands and thanked them for allowing him to take Emily to the dance.

“I like him,” Jack said as they walked back to the house together.

“She’s growing up.”

“Too fast,” Jack agreed. It seemed like just yesterday she’d been cautiously toddling between them on this same front porch. Now she was going on _dates_. Too soon, she would be going away to college, and then she might be coming home to tell them she was engaged. Which reminded Jack …

“You know what today is,” he said, hip checking Bitty.

“Of course I do. Speaking of, I did save a cupcake for you.” Bitty hadn’t coached since Emily had been in peewees, but he made cupcakes for his staff every Valentine’s Day. He always saved a few for their family to enjoy after dinner, which would be short one person tonight.

“We can have them when Em gets home.”

“Or,” Bitty said, raising an eyebrow, “we can have ours now. Why should she have all the fun? We’re old, not dead.”

Jack followed Bitty into the kitchen, confused, until he saw the two cupcakes Bitty had arranged on the kitchen table. He had clearly used a different candy heart supplier than Maman, Jack realized, as he read the messages atop each cupcake: “Cute Butt” and “Let’s Get Busy.”

“ _Bits_ ,” Jack said, forgetting all about high school dances and cupcakes and everything that was not his husband. When he pressed him up against the counter and kissed him, it felt exactly like it had in their Providence kitchen so many years ago.

“Maybe let’s not get busy right here,” Bitty said. “I love you, but the last time we did this in the kitchen my back hurt for a week.”

Jack didn’t want to stop, but Bitty had a point. He scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder instead, because he could still do _that_ , if he didn’t have to walk far. And their bedroom wasn’t that far away from the kitchen.

“Don’t you dare drop me on the bed,” Bitty warned through laughter, “or I’ll divorce you.”

“Good thing they don’t make a candy heart that says that.” Jack dropped Bitty on the bed and fell down next to him. “Be mine?”

Bitty curled closer, his nimble fingers already working to remove Jack’s belt. “Always.”


End file.
